Requited
by startraveller776
Summary: Hoshi Sato has had a little crush on Jonathan Archer since the day they met, but she's always known it wasn't reciprocated. Jon, however, just might show her that her infatuation isn't so one-sided, after all.


_Disclaimer:_ If I owned any of this, you could bet your tushy that there would have been more seasons of _Star Trek: Enterprise_. Alas, I don't. I only get to play with the characters in fanfiction. *sigh*  
_Rating:_ PG-13 for sensuality  
_Genre:_ Angst, Romance, More Angst  
_Spoilers: _General (This fic takes place pre-"Broken Bow" and post-"Terra Prime")  
_Summary: _Hoshi has had a little crush on Jonathan Archer since the day they met, but she's always known that it wasn't reciprocated. Jon, however, just might show her that her infatuation might not be so one-sided, after all.

**A/N:** Only important thing you need to know before starting this story is that I consider "These are the Voyages" to be a poorly written _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ episode. It's a faulty holodeck program and, therefore, has no effect on any actual events that occur during _Star Trek: Enterprise_'s time. (I mean, after 10 years Hoshi is _still_ an ensign? Yeah. I don't think so.)

Many thanks to my incredible beta, **Honeybee**!

This was my answer to The Delphic Expanse's Valentine's Day Challenge. (www dot thedelphicexpanse dot com) Song prompt: "Crush" by Jennifer Page.

* * *

The first time Hoshi saw him was during her guest lecture on the impact of language on culture. He came in late and stood in the back with his arms crossed over his chest. Who was he, she wondered. Someone from Starfleet, by his uniform, but no one she had known during her days at the academy. The way he stared at her made her feel as though they were the only two people in the small auditorium.

Abruptly, she became aware that she had stopped speaking mid-sentence. Hoshi tore her attention away from the stranger and back to her notes. She made some kind of joke—she must have, the audience laughed—though she couldn't remember what it was. She continued with her lecture, avoiding the eyes of the mysterious Starfleet officer. After she finished, and opened the floor for questions, she looked for him again. He wasn't there. She wasn't sure why she was disappointed.

"Who was that sexy Starfleet officer?" her assistant asked after the hall had cleared.

Hoshi wanted to sigh. Susan never passed up the opportunity to comment on good-looking men. "Who?" Hoshi feigned innocence. She was not going to tell Susan that he had unsettled her.

"You didn't see him?" Susan's eyes went wide. "The way he stared at you… Oh my God, if a man looked at me like that, I don't know if I could speak, let alone give a presentation for another thirty minutes. It was steamy!"

A chill went down Hoshi's back. He hadn't been looking at her like _that_, had he? Sure, his gaze was intense—_really_ intense—but she was pretty sure that it hadn't been sexual at all. Right? Hoshi shook the thought from her mind and slung her satchel over her shoulder. "Come on," she said to Susan. "Let's get this stuff back to the hotel and find a good place to eat."

"Yes, ma'am." Susan winked and picked up the rest of Hoshi's gear. "What do you feel like tonight? Indian?" she asked as they made their way out of the lecture hall.

Hoshi scrunched her nose. "I don't know if I'm in the mood for anything that spicy." She closed the doors after they passed through. "Let's do Italian."

"Professor Sato."

Susan grabbed Hoshi's arm and hissed, "It's him! He's even hotter close-up!"

Hoshi wondered why her heart started fluttering. She didn't even know the man or what he wanted, for crying out loud. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and found herself looking up, he was so tall. He was older than her by fifteen years or more, and Hoshi had to admit that Susan was right—Mr. Starfleet was very attractive. He fixed on her with green eyes, and she thought he might be trying to see into her soul. She tried not to shiver.

"That's me," she said, surprised that she had managed to keep her voice steady. "This is my assistant, Susan Brandt."

He gave a nod to Susan before turning back to Hoshi. "I'm Jonathan Archer." He held out his hand, which Hoshi shook.

Jonathan Archer. Where had she heard that name before? She glanced at his rank pips. _Captain_ Jonathan Archer…recognition dawned on her. He had recently been given command of Earth's first deep space vessel—once construction was finished. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you had some time to talk." His eyes flicked to Susan, and Hoshi got the feeling that he wanted to have that conversation alone. "Over dinner, maybe? I'll buy." He flashed a smile that softened his features. It was almost enchanting.

Reality came back to Hoshi when Susan elbowed her ribs. She chided herself for getting a little moony-eyed over some guy in uniform. What was wrong with her? Professor Hoshi Sato, brilliant linguist, did not melt when a handsome stranger smiled at her. Absolutely not. "I hope you know a good Italian restaurant, Captain, because I won't have anything else."

His smile widened. "I know just the place. And, please, call me Jon."

Susan pulled the satchel off of Hoshi's arm. "I'll just take our things back to the hotel," her assistant said before making a hasty exit.

Hoshi scowled at the retreating back of the other woman. _Traitor. _She was nervous about being alone with Captain Jonathan "Call Me Jon" Archer. He had that look about him, the kind that said he was used to getting what he wanted, and it was obvious he wanted something from her. And she was pretty sure if he kept smiling at her like that, she would agree to whatever it was before she could think better of it.

"Shall we?" he asked as he waved toward the doors.

She smiled and tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach. "Let's go."

During the cab ride, he was silent. Hoshi couldn't decide if she was relieved or bothered that he didn't try to make conversation. A part of her wished he would just come out with it already. She worried what the captain of the first warp ship would want with a communications officer who was on leave from Starfleet. Was he going to activate her? Give her a commission on board his ship? There was a reason that she was taking a sabbatical—it was a decision she had made when she threw up during her EVA training at the academy.

And, of course, there was the tiniest part of her that wondered if his request would be related to Starfleet at all. He _was_ taking her to dinner. Alone. And he _did_ keep staring at her… _That's enough of that! _She was shocked how easily her mind wandered down _that_ path. _Susan. _Hoshi blamed Susan for this.

It wasn't until they were at the restaurant—a small, noisy "Mom and Pop" place—and had ordered their food that the captain shared his reason for meeting with her.

"I'm sure you've heard about the _Enterprise_," he said as he grabbed a roll.

Hoshi nodded. "I don't think there's anyone who hasn't."

"The construction is almost finished and it's time for me to put my crew together." He grinned.

She wished he wouldn't keep flashing those pearly whites. He was charming and she was sure he knew it too. She was annoyed that it was having an effect on her. "And you want me to recommend someone as a communications officer?" She hoped that was what he was going to ask.

He shook his head. "I want the _best_ under my command." He gave her that piercing stare once more. "And _you_ are the best."

Hoshi's stomach dropped. She had joined Starfleet for the opportunities to learn alien languages, but during her first shuttlepod ride, she had second thoughts. Visions of what happened when a body was exposed to the vacuum of space had made her heart pound against her ribcage. She couldn't breathe during the thirty minute ride, her chest felt like a crushing vice. Only pride had kept her from kissing the tarmac when the ship landed. After the EVA exercise, Hoshi had to admit that she wasn't meant for the stars, despite the meaning of her name.

"I'm about to start classes." She heard the faint tremor in her voice. "There isn't enough time for the school board to find a replacement."

"No problem." He raised his hands. "_Enterprise_ isn't scheduled to launch for at least six more months. The spring term should be over by then." He popped a piece of bread in his mouth as if her acceptance was a forgone conclusion.

"Captain—"

"Jon."

"—I recognize this is an opportunity that any comm officer in Starfleet would kill for, but I'm happy where I'm at." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I can recommend some great candidates who would jump at the chance to ship out with you."

He finished his roll with a faraway look in his eyes. Hoshi sensed that he wasn't ready to give up. Well, she decided, he could try every angle, but she wasn't going to budge. As long as he didn't smile again. No, even if he_ did_ smile again—Hoshi was not going into space. That was that. He could go and use his dazzling magnetism on someone else.

The waiter brought their food, but he made no move to pick up his fork. He leaned forward instead. "Professor—"

"Hoshi."

The corner of his mouth tugged upward. "Hoshi, would you say that miscommunication is one of the main causes for conflict?"

Hoshi eyed him, wondering where this was leading. "Of course."

"Humans are about to go out there"—he waved a hand at the ceiling—"and we're going to come across other species, species whose language we don't know. We'll need to figure out what they're saying pretty quickly and let them know that our intention is peaceful exploration. Otherwise, we could accidentally start an interstellar conflict." There was so much passion in his voice, it was overwhelming. "Hoshi, no one comes close to you in linguistics. You know that. And you have Starfleet training. I don't plan on _Enterprise_ launching without you on the bridge."

She knew he was right about her language abilities. She had been a prodigy and continued to far surpass any of her colleagues in the field, even those two or three times her age. And she was tempted by the idea of being the first to be exposed to languages never before heard by human ears—almost tempted enough to overcome her severe aversion to space travel.

"The mission is for five years." He gave her his winning smile again. "After that, you could go back to teaching for the rest of your life." His expression made it plain that he couldn't believe that anyone would want to go back something so dull after that kind of adventure. "Imagine how much more experience you'll be able to offer your students. Hell, you could head the xenolinguistics department at the academy."

_Oh damn him!_ He was playing her like a fine-tuned piano. Still, five years was a long time to spend in space…

"I'll tell you what," he said before she could form a reply, "give me a year. If it's not the right fit for you, then I'll release you from the position, and you can go back to Brazil."

"Captain—Jon—I…" She was warring with herself. They were talking about going into space, the very last place in the universe she wanted to be. And yet, he wasn't asking her to commit for the rest of her career. A year, only for a year. The _Enterprise_ had to have thicker bulkheads than a shuttlepod, right? "I won't go before the end of the term—not even a day before," she answered. "I owe my students that much."

If she thought his smile couldn't get any more brilliant, she was proven wrong at this moment. Good grief, he must not have any problems with the ladies. Did that grin work just as well with men too?

"It's a deal." He held up his glass of water. "To the launch of _Enterprise_ with Starfleet's best and brightest."

Hoshi lifted her glass and tried to tell herself that she hadn't just made a big mistake.

* * *

_More than five years later…_

The bar was loud and dark, not the type of place that Hoshi would normally frequent, but Trip had insisted that all the senior officers share a drink together at the 602 club. _Enterprise_ was docked at Jupiter Station receiving much needed upgrades, and in the meantime, the crew was given a month-long furlough. Hoshi needed the time to decide if she was going to be on the bridge for the next mission. She had received several prestigious offers from various universities, and even one from Starfleet Academy.

"I heard that, with the latest transporter design, they'll be able to filter out biologicals like viruses or bacterias. That'll be the end of decon chamber," Malcolm said, interrupting her thoughts. "It would be nice if we could fine tune it enough to beam a potential hostile with_out_ his weapon."

"Yeah, it's always about weapons with you, isn't it Mal?" Trip smirked around his beer.

"Knowing you, Commander, you'd like a transporter that could beam someone without their clothing." Malcolm grinned. "You certainly were 'out of uniform' often enough in the last five years."

Trip's face reddened, and Hoshi tried to stifle a chuckle. "Hey now! It's not like I did it on purpose. 'Sides, I remember savin' your asses more than once in my skivvies."

"Indeed," T'Pol interjected with a lifted brow. "I can only ascertain that you are more comfortable with less clothing, considering how often you were found in your 'bare minimums.'"

Hoshi watched as Trip raised an eyebrow at T'Pol. The look he gave the Vulcan spoke volumes, and Hoshi was pretty sure it meant "you would know." After years of watching T'Pol's subtle body language, Hoshi knew the commander's sudden interest in her mug of tea was an answering "indeed."

Hoshi wasn't able to contain her laughter any longer. This was a good moment, when they weren't trying to fend off an attack from some new, hostile alien; when they weren't trying to discover a cure for some mysterious illness or frantically fixing a system malfunction—and when they weren't burying a little baby girl. She was glad to see Trip and T'Pol so relaxed. For several months after baby Elizabeth's passing, it had seemed like neither of them would ever recover.

Hoshi looked around the table, and felt warmth spread in her chest. Trip was sharing another joke that she didn't quite catch, but had made Travis and Malcolm laugh. Phlox and T'Pol were engaged in quiet conversation. All of them had become like a family to Hoshi after their time together. She couldn't imagine life without any of them, yet…she did want a family of her own someday, and being gone for years at a time on a deep space vessel wasn't conducive to marriage and children. _Maybe one more tour_, she thought as she watched her dear friends.

She smiled to herself. It was funny how she didn't find space quite so frightening anymore.

Her eyes fell on the captain—Jon—the patriarch of this close-knit bunch. No, Hoshi corrected, he wasn't quite a patriarch. That made him sound old, and while he had a few years on most of them, he was more like a big brother—a "tough love" kind of big brother. Hoshi had seen him at his best and his worst, and she couldn't imagine an _Enterprise_ without him sitting in the command chair. She remembered their first meeting, the way he was so driven, anxious to touch the stars. He was different now—still the hopeful explorer, but more settled, anchored in some undefinable way.

As if he felt her gaze, Jon turned and grinned at her. Hoshi felt her cheeks flush. Why did that still happen after all this time? The little crush she'd harbored over the years hadn't faded as she hoped it would. He was as handsome as ever, charismatic and just plain likable—even when he was grumpy. What she felt for Jon wasn't obsessive infatuation, but a dormant attraction that would only leap to life if he ever looked at her as more than a colleague or a little sister that needed protection. He never had and, likely, never would.

"While I have enjoyed our little gathering," Phlox said, drawing Hoshi's attention, "it's nearing feeding time for my menagerie. If you will all excuse me."

Trip raised his glass. "One more toast before you go." He looked at Jon. "Cap'n?"

Jon straightened. "Of course." He waited for everyone to hold up their drinks. "To the finest crew in Starfleet. The last five years have been a helluva ride." He glanced at Hoshi. "Here's to five more."

She felt her skin pebble with goosebumps as glasses clinked. Jon's eyes never left hers as he took a sip of his bourbon.

After Phlox left, T'Pol stood. "I believe I will return to the consulate."

Trip shot up so fast his chair nearly tipped over. "Wanna share a cab, Commander?" he asked.

T'Pol nodded. As they said their goodbyes, Hoshi shook her head. The pair tried to hide their relationship, but it was obvious to those who knew them well. No one ever commented on it, though. Before the funeral, Hoshi might have been tempted to engage in some gentle ribbing, but now it didn't seem right.

"I suppose that's that, then." Malcolm sighed. "Unless the three of you are staying."

"Sure," Travis replied. "I've got nowhere to be."

Hoshi thought about having another drink, but decided against it. It was getting late, and even though she had no plans in the morning, she had never been a night owl. "I'm afraid this is it for me, boys. It's been fun."

She hugged Travis and Malcolm—who stiffened at the public display, as always—but hesitated when she reached Jon. She wasn't sure why. She had hugged him before. Maybe it was the combination of the bar, alcohol, the late hour and the nostalgia of celebrating the end of _Enterprise_'s first mission. He didn't try to embrace her either, and she tried not to wonder what that was about.

"Let me walk you back to the hotel," Jon offered as he followed her out.

Why was she blushing again? "You don't have to, it's only a couple of blocks."

"I'm leaving anyway." He shrugged.

Hoshi was about to protest again, but changed her mind. Why not? She always liked his company. They were friends, weren't they? It might be nice to have one last chat.

Except, he didn't say a word the entire walk from the bar to the hotel. Hoshi kept glancing at him in an attempt to read his body language. Maybe he was just tired, she reasoned. Yes, that was probably it. This was merely companionable silence—when two friends don't feel the need for small talk.

When they reached the hotel, she turned and gave him a broad smile. "Thanks." She was eager to get inside and away from the inexplicable awkwardness that was building between them.

Jon opened his mouth to reply, but Mother Nature intervened. At that moment the skies opened and a downpour drenched them both. Had it even been overcast when they'd left the bar? Hoshi laughed at the absurdity of it and felt the tension break. They rushed into the lobby, dripping all over the marble floor.

"Come on. I've got some towels in my room," she told him as she led him into the lift.

Jon smiled. "We can travel faster than light, but we still haven't found a way to predict the weather with any kind of accuracy."

"Priorities, Captain. It's all about priorities." Hoshi returned his smile. She was glad that the weirdness from earlier was gone. "Besides, I thought you liked spontaneity."

He raised his eyebrows. The lift chimed and the door slid open, interrupting whatever comment he was going to make. Hoshi's room was only two doors down and within seconds they were inside. She grabbed all the towels from the bathroom and tossed one to Jon.

"What makes you say that I like spontaneity?" he asked.

She glanced at him and almost snickered. After rubbing the towel through his hair, it was sticking up at odd angles. A disheveled Jonathan Archer was a rare sight, and she thought it was kind of cute—in a totally platonic way, of course. She tried not to notice the way his wet clothes clung to his body, leaving very little to the imagination.

_Damn_. Why did everything get so tense again?

"Oh, I don't know," she answered, forcing her errant thoughts back to somewhere more appropriate, "maybe because your life is about exploring the far reaches of space. There's nothing predictable about what you find out there."

He thought about it for a minute. "True."

She watched him as he tried unsuccessfully to dab the moisture from his pants. He really should get out of his clothes altogether and send them down to the hotel laundry, but Hoshi was not going to offer—not when her school-girl crush had chosen to rear its ugly head. What she needed was to get him out of her room so she could sleep this off. Why couldn't she just tell him to go?

"Have you decided, yet?" he asked.

"Decided what?" His question caught her off-guard, and she blushed again. _Come on, Hoshi_, _get a hold of yourself!_

"If you're going to sign on with us for the next tour." His lips were quirked in that adorable way. What would it be like to kiss him?

_Stop! Just stop right there, girl. _

She tried to sound nonchalant. "I've received some offers—even one to chair the linguistics department at the academy."

He smiled, but it lacked enthusiasm. "Just like I said when I recruited you." He stepped closer to her. "I'm glad that you stuck it out for all five years. I can't imagine not having you at the comm." He looked away. "I'd understand if you're ready to be back on solid ground, though. I know being in space was never easy for you."

He was talking like this was a goodbye—not an "until tomorrow" kind of goodbye, but the kind people say when they're not sure if they will see each other again. It felt…sad. And wrong.

"Anyway, I'd better get going." Jon handed her the towel. "Goodnight."

There were so many things she knew she should say right now—like "I can't imagine not seeing you every day either, so I'm definitely shipping out again"—but the words wouldn't come. How does a linguist get tongue-tied? _Stupid crush._ She stopped trying to speak, and instead wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. She ignored the part of her mind that was very aware of just how fit he was.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked down at her. In a fit of whimsy, she decided that it couldn't hurt to give him a chaste, friendly kiss. People did that. She'd done it with Trip and Travis before. When she stood on her toes and kissed him, she realized that keeping it friendly was impossible. Her lips were too soft against his, and she lingered when she should have pulled back. It felt so nice…

But he wasn't responding.

She ended the kiss, calling herself an idiot in several languages as she dropped her arms. She glanced up at him and saw his stunned expression. "Jon—Captain, I'm sorry," she stammered, averting her eyes. "That was completely inappropriate and…" Her entire body flushed from embarrassment. It took her a moment to realize that he hadn't let go of her.

"I always thought it was just me," he whispered. She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to himself.

He pressed his mouth over hers, tightening his arms around her. He kissed her like he was releasing every longing he had pent up over the years. It was hungry, almost aggressive, and it made her body tingle all over. She parted her lips and his tongue entered without hesitation. He was devouring her and her fingers gripped his damp shirt as she tried to anchor herself against the wave of desire that spiked inside of her.

She squeaked in surprise when he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He looked at her with such obvious affection that it made her heart pound.

"Is this-" He began to ask.

"Yes." She cut him off. She could imagine the internal conflict he must be experiencing. He was her commanding officer, after all. She didn't want him to worry that she felt pressured. And she didn't want him to stop kissing her.

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. A fire ignited in Hoshi's middle as she studied the contours of his chest, his shoulders, his abdomen. She had seen him without a shirt several times over the years they've served together. She had even rubbed decon gel across his back and shoulders after the away missions they had shared together. But this was different. This time she could touch him with abandon; she didn't have to pretend that the feel of his skin under her fingertips never made her heart race.

She wasn't able to admire his sculpted body for long. He was over her, kissing her again, easing his hands beneath her shirt, and making her shudder with anticipation. The world, the universe collapsed into nothing more than how he was making her feel in this moment—so _alive._

She didn't know why she felt so self-conscious as he unbuttoned her blouse. This wasn't unfamiliar territory for her, but it was the first time with Jon. It somehow felt more significant than her other dalliances—more…special. She knew it was silly, and yet she couldn't help the color rising in her cheeks as he looked down at her with that smile.

"You're so beautiful, Hoshi," he said as his fingers brushed against the lace of her bra. "You've always been so beautiful."

How did he do that? How did he render her speechless?

She pulled him down for another burning kiss. Soon the rest of their clothing became a soppy mess on the floor, and together they reached a new, intimate level in their relationship.

Afterward, she didn't know how long they lay like this, her cheek resting against his bare chest, his arm around her waist and the duvet tangled in their legs. She fingered the light patch of hair that covered his well-formed pectorals. She knew he wasn't asleep, his breathing wasn't slow enough, but she was afraid to speak. She didn't know what sleeping together meant for their future. Was it just a casual one-night stand? Or did something more meaningful transpire between them? She wasn't ready to define their new relationship yet.

His silence seemed to say that he wasn't ready either. She found that reassuring. They didn't have to have it all figured out this moment, did they? Nothing was set in stone.

A communicator beeped, intruding on the stillness of the moment. Jon gave her a brief squeeze and said, "It's probably mine."

With reluctance, she sat up and pulled the duvet over her. She admired his body as he searched his pants for the device. Would she ever grow tired of seeing him nude? No, she decided. It was the kind of gift that kept on giving, she was sure. She found herself hoping that what had happened earlier wouldn't be a one-time thing.

Jon gave her an apologetic look before slipping into the bathroom with his communicator. She heard the low murmur of his voice through the closed door, but she didn't try to decipher the words. It was probably Starfleet, considering how late it was—or it was Malcolm or Travis needing to be bailed out of something. She doubted it was the latter, though. Travis usually kept out of trouble, and Malcolm was only in the thick of it when Trip was with him.

Hoshi hugged her knees to her chest and sighed. Chances were fairly high that he would need to leave. It would have been nice to have him next to her when she woke in the morning—and not just because she could have easily been talked into another round. But he was a captain, the kind that was married to Starfleet. Even if he wanted to pursue a real relationship with her, Hoshi would have to decide if she could be content with being his mistress. In the afterglow of their lovemaking, she thought she might be able to accept that kind of life with him.

The bathroom door opened and she looked up, prepared to tell him that it was fine—he could go. The words died on her lips when she saw his ashen features. She had only seen him like this once before, when he had been informed of the Xindi attack on Earth. Her heart leapt into her throat.

"I have to go. We've been recalled," he said. He began picking up his damp clothes and pulling them on, almost mechanically.

"What's happened? What's wrong?" She stood up and dressed quickly. She tried to ignore the way her hands shook as she buttoned her blouse.

He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time since the call. "The Romulans have destroyed the_ Atlantis._ All hands were lost." He blinked. "We're at war, Hoshi."

She felt her world collapsed with his words. Her earlier speculations over what sex had done to their relationship seemed frivolous now. It didn't matter anymore.

"I'm coming with you," she said, throwing on her shoes. She wasn't going to let the _Enterprise_ ship out without her comm officer. Her family needed her. She was glad when Jon didn't protest.

He stopped her at the door. "I'm sorry." He kissed her and it felt painfully despondent. "After this is over—"

"I know." She didn't want him to say it, to say out loud the possibility that they would never have a chance to finish what they had started.

He was Captain Jonathan Archer again—the man who held Earth's fate in his hands once more. And Lieutenant Hoshi Sato would do everything in her power to help him succeed.

Later she would shake her fist at the universe against the unfairness of it all.

**~FIN~**


End file.
